


Shadows

by Lady_Phenyx



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Depressive Thoughts, Don’t copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Found Family, Gen, Music battle, References to Depression, happy ending guaranteed, minor invisible Snusmumriken/Snufkin, music magic, no darker than 90s canon, power of love (TM)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-05-20 09:14:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19373716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: Something has come to Moomin Valley. Something quiet, unseen, shadows that whisper cruel thoughts, something that has everyone in the Valley trapped in melancholy. Something magical, feeding off the hopelessness it creates with its shadows and its music.And Snufkin is not going to stand for that. Not in Moomin Valley.Story inspired by the songShadow Stalkerby Mercedes Lackey.





	1. Chapter 1

 

It seemed to be a normal day in Moomin Valley.

 

The sun was shining, there was a soft breeze, and the weather was at that stage of summer where everything was not too hot yet not too chill, perfect for being outside and working or playing or having a picnic.

 

But despite the brightness of the day, grey clouds seemed to be gathering around the edges of the Valley, and despite the bright sun, shadows were grouping together and growing, hiding in the gullies and dips of the hills, hiding in the trees, shadows darker than they should have been on such a day, slowly reaching for places shadows did not belong.

 

\---XXX---

 

No one noticed as the shadows crept closer into the valley, shadows that grew darker and darker as they grew, that began to crawl over the bright colors of the Valley, that began to dull the bright sunshine of the summer's day.

 

Why should they? It was just a few shadows.

 

And yet.

 

Everything seemed to be taking more effort than usual, today. Even the things they wanted to do, it was taking a bit of effort to get moving, to start the game or put pen to paper, to get out of bed.

 

No one mentioned anything. It was just a little tiredness, they'd be fine after a good sleep. Everyone was allowed an off day, now and again.

 

Except it was a little harder, the next day. A little more tiring.

 

Except that it was everyone, even if they were all trying to hide it.

 

And the shadows grew stronger and darker.

 

Some people were more affected than others, each in their own way feeling the shadows creeping over their spirits without knowing what was happening. Some, like Moomin, needed a little more time but kept going, while some, like Little My, felt more and more on edge, irritated and ready to bite.

 

\---XXX---

 

On the bridge by Moomin House, Snufkin clutched his fishing pole in hands he forced to stay steady, staring down into the water.

 

Usually, being around people didn't begin to weigh on him like this for a good while yet. This was Moomin Valley, the place he wanted to return to, the people whose company he sought, and yet suddenly he needed to get away, be alone, while the thoughts that sometimes plagued him when he left or hadn't seen some of them for awhile or had been around people for too long were beginning to circle his head.

 

Most of the time that meant it was time for a trip, even if it was just a short one. He'd just gotten here, Moomin would be so upset he'd already left...but if he stayed much longer, Snufkin wasn't sure how long he could keep this spiral that he was rapidly descending into a secret.

 

Standing abruptly, he took to his tent just long enough to leave his pole leaning against it before turning and striding into the woods as quickly as his feet could take him.

 

No need to leave a note – the fact that he left his tent set up would tell Moomin clearly enough that Snufkin intended to return within a day or two at the most. Longer than that and he'd leave one, but today it wasn't necessary. He hoped.

 

\---XXX---

 

Snufkin walked and walked, the motion and feeling of walking alone in the woods not soothing him as it usually did. If anything, it almost seemed to make things worse, which didn't make sense at all – going inside and being among people right now made him want to shrink, to hide away, made his stomach cramp into an angry knot, and yet being alone wasn't helping either.

 

Snufkin didn't stop until he was deep in the witch's forest, not deep enough to reach the witch's cottage but deep enough most people wouldn't follow.

 

He curled up in the hollow of one of the huge trees, small and tight enough anyone who passed by would have had difficulty seeing him while the pressure continued to increase as if the shadows themselves had weight.

 

Snufkin had thought he'd gotten over these sort of thoughts a long time ago, after he'd started returning to Moomin Valley each spring. After he was greeted each time with Moomin's exuberant joy at his return, Little My's more understated pleasure to see him, their friends' happy greetings and the warmth of Moominmamma and Moominpappa to see him, not just as Moomin's friend but for himself and for his own worth.

 

But how could they be so glad to see him, when he hid so much from them? The spiraling thoughts, the doubts over his own worth, the fear of abandonment, the anxiety he hid from everyone behind the cool demeanor.

 

The way he hadn't seen hands or tail in years, hiding their state with gloves and coat, invisible for long enough he wasn't even sure anymore what they looked like.

 

\---XXX---

 

Snufkin wasn't sure how long he laid there. Eventually he forced himself to get up, a proposition much more difficult than it sounded.

 

Experience with these moods told him that if he spent much longer in the shadows, it would be that much harder to get moving later. He needed it for awhile, but now he needed to go out and sit in the sunshine. It wasn't fair to Moomin or the others to expect them to make him feel better, and he didn't want them to have to deal with him like this, but hearing their voices as they went about their days would still help.

 

Given that he hadn't felt unwanted or worthless since they'd first been so happy to see him again, knowing they were near would help without asking anything of them.

 

Except, when Snufkin came out of the woods, Moomin Valley was quiet. Quieter than it should have been.

 

Snufkin walked through the fields, looking around as mounting worry started to push aside the depression.

 

If depression were contagious, he would have said everyone had caught it from him, as everyone he met seemed to be drooping almost as badly as he'd been earlier.

 

Truly worried to the core, the depression and spiraling thoughts derailed by fears of what he would find, he set off at a run towards Moomin House.

 

\---XXX---

 

Inside, it was worse than he'd first thought.

 

The house seemed deserted at first, it was so quiet and still inside. Snufkin walked through, carefully letting himself in when no one answered his knock and barely making a sound himself.

 

He found Moominmamma in the kitchen, staring out the window, her hands lying idle on the counter top.

 

She greeted Snufkin dully, and it was painful to see the normally calm but happy Moominmamma so melancholy, painful enough that Snufkin wasn't able to force himself to prolong the conversation now that he was sure that whatever had come to the Valley had gotten to Moominmamma.

 

If Moominmamma was taken, then...

 

Snufkin took the stairs as quickly as he dared, peeking into Moominpappa's study. As he'd feared, Moominpappa was at his desk, his head in his hand and spinning his pen with the other, bemoaning his lack of talent and how no one would want to read his memoirs, who was he kidding?

 

Snufkin, who had heard many of the stories already and found them exciting (if needing a bit of editing yet) slowly closed the door.

 

Every creator had days like that, but this was more serious than usual, and with Moominmamma downstairs, unable to voice why she was sad, just that she was...

 

\---XXX---

 

Moomin was in his room, along with Little My.

 

“Oh, Snufkin,” Moomin greeted dully when Snufkin swung open the door, out of breath from his race upstairs. “I'm sorry, I'm not good company today.”

 

“You're acting worse than when he's gone for the winter or takes an extra day to get here,” Little My complained. For a moment, Snufkin was hopeful, as that was just snarky enough to sound like normal Little My, except she dropped her head back onto her crossed arms, sounding sadder than he'd ever heard when she added, “It's like the rest of us don't matter.”

 

“It's all I can think about,” Moomin said, so monotone and dull, as if he couldn't even muster the energy to be defensive. “I'm sorry, Snufkin, I know you have to go and I get why you have to and I want to let you, but I'm just so sad today. I can't seem to think about anything else. I'll see you later, okay?”

 

“...okay, Moomin. Just remember, it's summer. I'm not leaving for months yet,” Snufkin said as he left, unable to resist at least trying to lift Moomin's spirits.

 

As he shut the door, Snufkin resolved that if this was what Moomin was like when he was late, then Snufkin was going to strive to never be late for spring again.

 

Back outside, he looked out over Moomin Valley, rubbing his arms as a sudden chill breeze blew through. The shadows looked darker than they had a right to be, on a sunny day like this, the wind more chill, as if something subtle, something wrong, lay over Moomin Valley. As if he were right, and something was here, infecting the whole valley.

 

It was almost as if...Snufkin frowned, staring down at the shadows. Shadows, chill breezes, hopelessness...all he was missing was music, though whatever was affecting everyone was apparently something held in the shadows if what he'd heard was true, the actual music causing it all only heard when one was close, but...they were legends, he'd never seen one for himself and he didn't believe in things he hadn't seen. But then again, he'd never seen a dragon until Moomin caught one, so maybe he shouldn't dismiss it so quickly.

 

Concern had replaced depression, and that was another mark towards Snufkin's theory. A usual spiral took more than this, more than concern and fear and worry to shake off, and he hadn't had one in years, besides. But if it were a spell, not something from inside...if something had been forcing that state onto him, then...

 

He traveled the Valley, and when even Mymble and Too-Ticky had fallen to depression, their homes surrounded by shadows that clung like creeping vines, he was sure.

 

Moomin, Moominmamma, and Too-Ticky didn't have dispositions to fall to hopelessness, even when things seemed their most bleak. And for the whole Valley to feel this way at once, with no disaster, no comet overhead...unnatural. Magic.

 

And not the witch, either. This was older, different, not her magic. Snufkin was willing to bet either she was unaware of what was happening here, or she and Alicia were huddled in their cottage, one or both of them under the spell.

 

Snufkin stood in the forest on top of a hill, looking out over the Valley, slowly turning the facts of the matter over and over in his head. What could have caused this? What could he do, alone as he was?

 

Was his earlier bout caused by whatever was causing everyone else to fall? Maybe, maybe not. Signs pointed to yes, considering how quickly it had come on and how long it had been since he last felt unwanted, but what could be causing this?

 

He had a theory, but...Snufkin stared at the shadows again, straining his eyes until one moved, faint and subtle. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back, eventually holding his breath to hear better.

 

There, on the wind. A song, so faint he could only hear it now, as he strained to hear, as he knew what he was listening for.

 

A Shadow Singer, someone who fed on despair and hopelessness and, not content to wait for those emotions to happen, sang shadows into being to cloud everything, to taint even the brightest day, to drive everyone who heard the song into bleakest despair, even driving them to unbearable despair until they could no longer stand it if they were cruel enough, sadistic and full enough.

 

Well. Not _here._ Not in Moomin Valley.

 

Snufkin didn't get angry often, mostly at unfairness like someone trying to fence off the forest, trying to control people, to force them into a mold, at people who were cruel, especially when it was for nothing more than their amusement, and his anger was usually like a passing summer storm – fierce while it lasted, but over quickly. Especially when he could do something about it.

 

This felt colder, stronger, as he hurried back through Moomin Valley, colder by the moment as he passed home after home with doors left open, empty and abandoned as the rest of the Valley.

 

The door to Moomin House swung eerily,and though Snufkin searched the house from cellar to attic, there wasn't a trace of Moomin or Moominpappa or Moominmamma or Little My to be found.

 

Snufkin was sure he hadn't been in the woods that long, so where could they be? A Shadow Singer didn't usually draw their victims to them, content to feed from a distance where it could be brushed off or explained as something natural and last longer, but...

 

Snufkin went cold. What if this Shadow Singer wasn't content with hopelessness? What if whoever they were, they wanted despair past the point of endurance? Wanted it up close and personal, wanted to watch everyone spiral until...

 

Could they, would they?

 

He didn't have time to wonder, not when whoever was doing this could be doing something terrible already.

 

It was almost easy to hear the music now, with fear and despair that he was too late fighting in his heart, and Snufkin set off at a run, following it.

 

And prayed to everything he'd ever believed in that he wouldn't be too late.

 


	2. Chapter 2

His heart in his throat, Snufkin flew along the forest path, nearly skidding on the fallen leaves, only long familiarity with the terrain keeping him on his feet.

 

Snufkin's coat threatened to tangle around his legs, legs that were burning from the distance he had gone at a flat run, his breath heaving in his chest and catching in his throat. He was past the parts of the forest where he and his friends still played as if they were children yet, into areas of the woods even he hadn't found the time to explore.

 

Finally exhausted and pushing himself to keep going, Snufkin couldn't keep his natural balance when his toe caught on a rock and he went down, legs tangling as he rolled and skidded in the leaves before finally sliding to a stop.

 

He laid on the forest floor, sprawled and panting, legs burning and shaking, breath hitching and catching as he fought to draw a full breath, familiar pain throbbing with his heartbeat that said he'd skinned his knees at the least.

 

The shadows pressed in around him, whispering and hateful. _Why was he trying so hard? They wouldn't try so hard for him.He wanted to be alone, didn't he? Now he was alone, wasn't he happy to be alone? Ungrateful little tramp, wasn't this what he wanted? No one would come to find him if he disappeared, and that was all he deserved. No one cared about little vagabonds, not for dirty, nasty little tramps with ragged clothes that pushed people away, kept everything on the surface and wouldn't let anyone in._

 

Moomin did. Moomin and Moominmamma and Moominpappa and Little My and Snorkmaiden and...the list kept going on and on, returning again and again to those closest to him, those five names the ones that kept repeating themselves. He wasn't dirty, he wasn't unloved, they would come find him if he disappeared. Moomin tried to, that year Snufkin was late, even though Moomin had a fever, and only taking Moomin back home kept Snorkmaiden from coming to find him instead.

 

Snufkin always said he didn't have a home, and he'd been denying it to himself for years, but now, as the shadows whispered their songs of despair, he had to admit what he'd denied.

 

They were his home. Not this place in particular, no matter how he loved it, but the people in it.

 

They cared, and the shadows were lying, just like his anxiety lied when it told him what a burden he was being. They cared, and they were his home, and he had to save them.

 

But he couldn't help any of them if he didn't. Get. Up.

 

Slowly, jerkily, each movement a defiance of the shadows still pressing close, Snufkin got to his feet.

 

One step.

 

Another.

 

Now that the momentum of his run was gone, each step was its own battle as he followed the music to its source, a strange fight between the shadows that urged him to give up, lie down and give in, and the song that urged him to follow it.

 

The shadows were growing darker and deeper as Snufkin traveled farther into the forest. The trees here, usually so friendly and welcoming, seemed to reach out towards him, the shadows twisting their branches into grasping hands and trunks into faces twisted with pain.

 

Snufkin thought some of this looked familiar, once he looked past the changes the shadows were making, that this forest by all rights should have looked like the rest of the unexplored forests of Moomin Valley – a little wild, a little unnerving maybe, but not harmful like this.

 

He paused when his arm brushed his pocket and he felt the shape of his harmonica. Snufkin pulled it out and tapped it against his hand, considering for a moment before putting his harmonica to his mouth and playing his spring tune, two parts anticipation, one part joy in walking alone for its own sake, and a dash of defiance, added new to the song as he played.

 

And the shadows retreated, sliding away from his music almost fearfully as Snufkin walked along, leaving brighter forests behind him.

 

Then Snufkin hit the edge of the clearing and stopped dead, the music faltering before his harmonica fell, automatically tucked back into his pocket as he stared at what he'd found.

 

The clearing would have looked much bigger had it not been crowded with so many of the residents of Moomin Valley, many of them scraped and disheveled from the trek to this clearing.

 

Even in the dimness of the forest, the white coats of the Moomins stood out starkly. Snufkin had never seen Moominmamma so dirty, and it was almost painful to look at, but not nearly as painful as the sight of the tears dampening the fur of her face.

 

Snork and Snorkmaiden were near to the Moomins, and Snorkmaiden was dark, dark green, her brother a dark blue, colors they changed to when upset, both shades so much darker than the colors they'd warn the night of the comet or any they'd worn ever since that terrible night.

 

The clearing was filled with the sound of soft weeping and moans, and over it all rose the voice of the Singer of Shadows, the one who was causing all of this. They were little more than a person shaped area of darker shadow with hungry, glowing white eyes looking out over their prey gloatingly, their voice rising in a song of hopelessness and despair.

 

Snufkin stood frozen, staring at them all. Now that he was here...what was he to do?

 

The Shadow Singer noticed him then, and her song sharpened, directed directly towards him, the only one still standing.

 

The song sliced through him, grief and pain wielded as a weapon, self-hate rising to choke Snufkin, tying around his throat and making him wobble, nearly falling, as every hateful word he'd ever heard thrown his way came back to haunt him, every fear of abandonment stirred into stronger life than ever before by her song, until he felt utterly alone even with everyone around him. Not the good alone that he sought, the break from being social, the time to rest and rejuvenate, but the bad alone, the abandoned, unwanted alone, the rejected, cast out alone.

 

Snufkin collapsed to his knees as his hands clutched the coat over his heart, choking back a sob.

 

He took a deep breath, fighting it down, struggling to raise his head to look around him again, at the people who wouldn't abandon or reject him.

 

Moomin was crying, his face buried in his paws and shoulders heaving with the strength of his sobs. Little My stared directly in front of herself where she was collapsed much like her brother, unseeing and unblinking, while Snorkmaiden was silently crying, tears streaming down her face unhindered as she looked at nothing.

 

_She's lying,_ Snufkin thought, the truth of it blazing across his mind. _They'd never abandon me, I know it. Maybe Moomin loves Snorkmaiden and not me, but he still cares. She cares. Moominmamma and Moominpappa and Little My and the rest. They care. They'd find me. They love me. THEY LOVE ME AND I LOVE THEM AND SHE'S NOT HURTING THEM ANYMORE._

 

Snufkin forced himself back to his feet, teeth gritted, protectiveness shielding him from the worst of her singing, and his hand brushed against his pocket, feeling the comforting shape of his harmonica, nearly forgotten in the pain. Snufkin grabbed for it, pulling it out, striding forward until he stood between the people of Moomin Valley and the Shadow Singer, glaring at her in defiance before putting it to his mouth and beginning to play.

 

The song he played now had no title, no thought to it at first but to drown out the Shadow Singer's song. Then, as Snufkin calmed, he began to play in earnest, playing every thought that crossed his mind. The stars at night, the peace he felt looking out over the ocean. Healing, joy, growing, the feeling of watching flowers come into bloom. The joy of walking and traveling for the love of it, of wandering far with no destination and of coming home again. Spring in Moomin Valley, the calls of his name as he emerged from the woods into the Valley. Of dreams and love and the feeling of finding a home and the beauty of the world.

 

Around Snufkin, the shadows faltered, shredding and fading away as though Snufkin and his music were a spotlight directed upon them. Slowly at first, then beginning to spread across the clearing, a feeling of warmth like spring sunshine that dispelled the shadows, their despair unable to stand against the hope and joy in his song.

 

The Shadow Singer snarled, and Snufkin stumbled as the full force of her magic was suddenly directed directly at him, none left to keep the others under her spell as she had before, and his harmonica fell from his mouth as the song drove him to his knees once again, harsher than before, holding him down and pinning him in place.

 

Around them, residents of Moomin Valley began to breathe easier as the spell lifted, no longer pressing down upon them but focused on Snufkin. They began to recover according to their natures in this moment they were being granted, those least deposed to melancholy beginning to recover first, still despairing but without the weight of it on their shoulders, fighting their way back our of the pit she had driven them into.

 

There were soft groans as they began to sit up in twos and threes, looking around to finally see where they were and trying to understand where they were and how they got there.

 

Moomin spotted the vagabond on his knees and cried out Snufkin's name, drawing everyone's attention to where Snufkin knelt on hands and knees between them and a shadowy figure, singing with a force they could feel, even from here.

 

It didn't take knowing magic to realize that the singer was casting a spell, that it was the one that had held them until now and that it was gone from them only to be focused full force on Snufkin and Snufkin alone.

 

Snufkin was panting for breath, trembling hard enough even at this distance Moomin could see it. Moomin tried to get up to go to him, but his legs gave out from under him, leaving him still reaching for Snufkin but exhausted already from what he'd been through today. The Singer's eyes flickered to Moomin for a moment before dismissing him as someone she could bring back under once Snufkin was dealt with.

 

That pause was all Snufkin needed to bring his harmonica back up to his mouth and begin playing again, no longer taken off guard by the full strength of her spell. Much like a current, it had caught him and pulled him under, but that break was all he needed to break the surface and ride it out.

 

The song he played now had everything in it he had focused on before and more. It flowed out of him and he gave himself over entirely to the music, weaving it around the Shadow Singer's, twining with hers to rob it of power. He rose back to his feet as he played, trembling faintly but defiant still.

 

The joy in being alive, here and now, with the earth firm beneath him and the sky soaring overhead. The acknowledgment that sometimes it was hard, and things hurt, and it was hard to move on, but there were sky and sea and flowers, warm hugs and people to welcome you home once you'd found the place you belonged. That there was no joy without pain.

 

That feeling of belonging he'd found here in Moomin Valley and the love he felt for it and the people who loved him and who he loved in return, despite all his fears of love tying him down, whose love was setting him free instead.

 

It was the Shadow Singer's turn to flinch away, backing away from Snufkin and his music, the mood and lighting that remained in the clearing retreating to cluster around the Shadow Singer in a last attempt at defense.

 

As the very last of her shadows dispelled under Snufkin's joyous song, the Shadow Singer turned to flee. As if called by the music, a beam of sunlight burst through the trees and fell on the singer as she faltered, and with a final, discordant screech she dissolved like her shadows, a last wisp of shadow rising into the air to dissipate like smoke.

 

Snufkin's song stopped mid-note, his arms dropping to his sides as he stared at the spot where the Singer had been in disbelief.

 

Slowly Snufkin sank down to his knees again, sitting sprawled on the ground and with his harmonica held close to his chest, breathing heavily. He hadn't played like that for...well, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had to play like that, with so much on the line.

 

The clearing was silent, save for Snufkin's heavy breathing.

 

Most of them were still trying to understand what had just happened. They could remember feeling sadder and sadder as the day went on, more and more hopeless, and unable to fight it, because if nothing matters then why fight to be cheerful, and then...then there was Snufkin's harmonica.

 

They'd heard Snufkin playing before – who hadn't? Snufkin played more than he spoke, sometimes, though most of them had only heard him when he played with a band at parties or the midsummer festival, not alone – but it had never been anything like this. So wild, so full of joy and yet with pain underneath, but pain that the song seemed to wave like a battle flag, that the world had done its worst but look, we're still here, and life is still sweet, a song that lifted all of their spirits and drove away the lingering cold, as if spring had come to Moomin Valley in the midst of winter.

 

Moomin tried to rise again, helped this time by Snorkmaiden, whose color was fading back to her base off-white, still tinged with green in worry as the two of them stumbled over to Snufkin, leaning on each other, barely able to keep their feet and mostly managing through sheer concern and a driving need to get to Snufkin, who still wasn't moving.

 

It was slow, and painful, but Snufkin didn't seem to hear them until they called out his name. He turned slowly at the sound, pale and exhausted, his face tear-streaked, his eyes wide and unfocused, and he scrambled unsteadily to his own feet at their approach, stumbling in his haste and meeting them halfway.

 

The three clung for a moment, slowly letting go but still holding hands after that long, long moment while everyone around them tried to stand or to understand what was happening, what kind of spell or creature that had been, what Snufkin had done to free them all.

 

“Snufkin, what was that?” Moomin asked, voicing the question on everyone's minds.

 

“A Shadow Singer,” Snufkin answered, and everyone paused in their attempts to stand, straining to hear his answer, his voice scratchy from all of the playing he'd done. “They feed on hopelessness and despair, but they create it rather than wait to find it. I guess she wanted her meal all in one place. I never heard of one of them doing that before.”

 

He squeezed their hands, his head tilted to hide his face under his hat briefly before raising his head again to look at them. “I never thought one would try here. For a bit there I was scared she was going to try and...and...” Snufkin hesitated, voice faltering as he held onto their hands tighter, letting them know silently that whatever he'd thought she might do, it was bad enough to leave Snufkin speechless. He cleared his throat, taking a breath. “It doesn't matter. She didn't, and now, she can't. And you're safe.”

 

“It was your music, wasn't it?” Moomin asked, almost reverently. “We all heard it. You brought spring back. I've never heard you play like that before.”

 

“It was amazing,” Snorkmaiden added admiringly.

 

Snufkin tilted his head again to hide the flush that covered his face at the way both Moomin and Snorkmaiden were looking at him.

 

“Is she gone, then?” Sniff asked, his voice quivering as he hid behind Moominpappa. “Is it over?”

 

“She gone, and she's not coming back,” Snufkin said firmly, calmed enough to raise his head. “It's over, Sniff.”

 

The word traveled fast in the clearing – what had happened, how close they had all come to real disaster, to losing someone to her, and that somehow, with his music, Snufkin had saved them all.

 

The cheering was ragged and weak, a testament to how exhausted everyone was, but it still made Snufkin jerk and stare at them in disbelief and confusion.

 

He flushed again, and tilted his head to hide his flush and confusion under his hat, as both Moomin and Snorkmaiden still had his hands and he didn't quite feel like reclaiming them yet.

 

Snufkin could feel his tail going, though, and was grateful for once that it was invisible – it always gave things away, and it would be hard to keep up the cool exterior if it were visible.

 

Snorkmaiden tilted her head, looking over Snufkin's shoulder. “What's...Snufkin, when did you get that?” she asked, so surprised it made both Moomin and Snufkin start.

 

Moomin tilted his head to look as well. “Snufkin, you have a _tail_?” he gasped. “She didn't do that to you, did she?”

 

It was Snufkin's turn to gape, mouth opening and closing with no sound able to emerge.

 

He pulled away and craned his neck to look, twisting and inadvertently spinning in a circle twice as he tried to see behind him before Moomin gently caught the tail, holding it in place for Snufkin to see, to hesitantly take in both hands.

 

It was his _tail_. He could feel it, like always, but now Moomin's warm paws were actually touching it, and he could see it. For the first time in years, he could see it.

 

It was fluffier than he remembered, though the fact that he hadn't been able to see it for so long showed a bit, as it needed a good combing.

 

He was quiet long enough Moomin and Snorkmaiden looked to each other in concern before reaching for Snufkin.

 

“Snufkin?” Moomin asked, his paw, like Snorkmaiden's, hovering over Snufkin's shoulder.

 

“I can't remember that last time I saw my tail,” Snufkin said, too shocked to play it off, to play it cool.

 

Suddenly hit with with a thought, he tugged up the wrist of his glove, pulling it off the rest of the way when he was met with an actual paw rather than air, not yet noticing the dawning realization on Moomin's face.

 

“Snufkin, I...” Moomin said, hands moving as he searched for words.

 

“Why didn't you tell anyone?” Snorkmaiden finished for him. “How long have they been invisible?”

 

Snufkin shrugged. “They'd been gone so long, I'd sort of forgotten that they were invisible,” he said absently. “Then we'd known each other long enough, it just got awkward to bring up.”

 

He looked up at them, smile brilliant. “I guess we can thank the Shadow Singer for bringing them back,” he said. “I don't think I'd have figured some things out if I hadn't gotten all protective about all of you and...and realized how much I care. And that I can still be free and love you.”

 

Abruptly he was surrounded on all sides by white fur as both Moomin and Snorkmaiden engulfed him in hugs.

 

As much as he enjoyed them, he was still a little grateful when Moominmamma spoke up, saying, “Let's all get back home now, everyone. We all need some rest, and Snufkin, you'll tell us all what happened once we have, won't you?”

 

Snufkin nodded, still riding the high of victory three times over, Snorkmaiden and Moomin still holding his hands. He wasn't quite sure what he'd said to encourage both of them to hold onto him like this, but he didn't really want it to stop.

 

Moominmamma stepped closer, touching his cheek gently. “It's good to finally see all of you, dear. Now, let's get home, and I'll see to your poor knees. I think we could all use some raspberry juice after all this, and you can tell us the rest when you're ready.”

 

And they set off back towards Moomin House, still hand in hand, as the last of the shadows dispersed for good, leaving Moomin Valley better than it was before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonic_Rider drew art for this fic! [Check it out here!](https://riderdoesart.tumblr.com/post/186282761951/just-a-little-doodle-i-did-for-a-fic-by)


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